


Branded By Blood

by MelancholyAndBlithe



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adult Content, Attempt at Dirty Talk, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hair-pulling, Muiri - Freeform, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Sexual Content, Spanking, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vingalmo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 08:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8973133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelancholyAndBlithe/pseuds/MelancholyAndBlithe
Summary: Vingalmo takes an interest in a new thrall that Rargal brings to the castle.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Normally I don't put notes in the beginning of the work, but I feel as if I should make an exception.
> 
> This pairing is completely out there, and as such, this probably won't get many hits at all.  
> However!  
> I ask that whomever does happen upon this, leave me some kind of feedback, as this is my third smut fic altogether, but it's the first in which I have attempted to tread the dirty talking and orgasm denial territory. I have no idea if I did a good job which is why I ask that feedback is left.
> 
> This is a fill from the Kinkmeme.  
> Enjoy. :)

Castle Volkihar had become boring as of late. It was only late evening, everyone in the court settled into the normal humdrum of castle life. Hestla and Fura worked at the forge all day, taking "breaks" at various points throughout. At least they learned to be quiet about it. Garen read in the vestibule of the castle next to Modhana, enjoying a polished silver goblet filled with fresh blood. Rargal was out somewhere trying to procure fresh new thralls to keep in the dungeons, thanks to Orthjolf's new additions to the clan eliminating two of them on a frenzy. The fool. Other than that, Vingalmo hadn't bothered to keep a closer eye on his family. Harkon's successor was out and about, doing various things for the court and the Dark Brotherhood, and as such, they had been gone for over a week now. This happened frequently as of late. They'd come in for a night, maybe two, recieve some jobs to do and then be gone for an unspecified amount of time.

Vingalmo strode out to the upper floor balcony overlooking the vestibule, arms crossed on the railing, his own goblet filled with blood held in his fingers. He lazily swished it around the glass, watching it stain the silver before taking a swig. Irony, rich and delicious. Breton blood, he recognized. Just the right amount of balance to the taste. Breton blood had always been his favorite type of blood out of any of the races. He scowled, remembering his supply of Breton blood was low. Maybe one or two goblets left until he'd have to acquire more. Perhaps he should send word to Rargal wherever he is and see if he could procure some for him. Better than going out himself and getting it, after all. 

The doors to the castle opened slowly, the large, heavy metal groaning loudly with the gradual movement. Vingalmo stood up straight, and his hand gripped his goblet harder, prepared to become a feral beast if there were an intruder who dared to walk through their halls. To his relief, it was Rargal, trailed by three hapless thralls. Vingalmo set his goblet down on the railing, turning to proceed down to the main floor of the vestibule. He wanted to see what kind of supply the castle cattle herder brought home this time. By the time he caught up to them, Rargal was about to head through the door leading to his chambers.

Two women and a man made up the thralls that trailed behind Rargal. A white haired Imperial woman, later in age and clad in torn, threadbare rags. An Altmer man, wearing thalmor robes, and finally...

Hello there.

A female Breton.

Lovely little thing too. Short brown hair, bright blue eyes accentuated with blue eye makeup and warpaint, and a slim figure. Beautiful little thing.

"Hold a moment, Rargal." Vingalmo stopped him, the man in question turning to regard the Altmer vampire questioningly.

"Vingalmo. What can I do for you?" He asked, an eyebrow raised. Vingalmo allowed his eyes to travel up and down the form of the Breton girl before he responded, eyes still trained on her.

"This one stays with me." Vingalmo commanded. Rargal frowned, displeased with this new order.

"I procured an extra in case one of Orthjolf's own went on a frenzy again. I'd rather have the extra as insurance. Rather us not be that short again." Vingalmo rolled his eyes, his face turning sour under Rargal's arguing. Turning his attention away from the woman, he stared Rargal down, hoping it would intimidate him enough to relent. To his displeasure, it didn't.

"You will let me have her. As one of the court's oldest members, I deserve my own personal thrall."

"Then you better get yourself one." Rargal narrowed his eyes. At this, Vingalmo grinned treacherously, taking the Breton girl by the wrist. She stumbled next to him, but put up no fight.

"Perfect. I'll take her, then." Then he left without another word. Rargal wouldn't dare attack him for a thrall. If he did, he was a damned fool. Vingalmo had more than one way to deal with people like him. A thrall master could be replaced, if need be. He led the woman up to Harkon's former quarters. Whenever the master was gone for a while, Vingalmo made himself right at home in his quarters. It wasn't known whether or not the master was aware of this or not. Frankly, he didn't care.

Their leader had done some changes to their quarters. In addition to adding some banners and other pieces of decoration, the stretching table was removed, in favor of a double bed instead. The master preferred an actual bed to a coffin; something that Vingalmo would never understand.

Vingalmo stopped in front of the fireplace, releasing her wrist, preferring to examine her once more. A breath of laughter came through his nose, a wry smile stretching his lips.

"It's been forever and a day since I've had my own thrall. What's your name, girl?" He asked, eyes locked with hers.

"Muiri, sir." She spoke, her voice lovely as the rest of her. Vingalmo hummed in acknowledgment and nodded at her answer.

"A fitting name." He said slowly, reaching out to grab a strand of her hair, letting it slip through his fingers. Her scent was...intoxicating. There was a bite wound on her neck. A day old, at least. He closed the space between them, a hand on her jaw. He tilted her head well enough for the column of her neck to be fully open to him. He bit down on the area of flesh unmarred by the bite Rargal had given to her. The girl gasped, a small, breathy sound that sent Vingalmo's nerves on edge with heat. As the heady taste of her blood filled his mouth, his mind wandered. He tried to remember the last time he'd laid with a woman? Months, at least. Probably closer to a year now, if he were being honest.

Her blood tasted better than anything he had in his personal storage of caskets. Nothing tasted quite like fresh blood. The warm liquid filled his mouth again and again as he drank his fill greedily. He dare say she had the best tasting blood he had tasted in years! She clung to him, her head moving on its own accord, tilting back as a small moan escaped her lips. He couldn't help one of his own that came out. Lower, more primal than her own, but still there. 

Oh yes, he was going to like having her around very much.

He finally finished feeding when her legs buckled under her, jerking him towards the ground unwelcomly. He growled in frustration until he noted the tone of her skin. Pale. Too pale. Not pale enough to be any stage of Sanguinare Vampiris, but perhaps it was too much blood lost? Did he really take that much? Or was it...

"Have you eaten recently?"

"No, not since I left Markarth. That was over a day ago, milord." She answered. No wonder, then. Poor little thing was probably exhausted. It wouldn't do to have a thrall that was too exhausted to feed from. If he didn't tend to her hunger, she'd die too soon for his liking. 

"I see. Wait here, pet." He instructed, turning on his heel and exiting the master's quarters. He wasted no time calling for assistance once he'd left the chambers. "Ronthil!" He called, back straightened, features schooled into aristocratic indifference that one could only master as a centuries-old vampire such as himself. The Thalmor could stand to learn a thing or two from him. The man in questioned scampered to Vingalmo, an eager smile on his face. The boy was always so ready to serve his superiors. At least he knew his place, unlike so many others here.

"Yes, Vingalmo?" Ronthil bowed slightly, showing respect.

"Fetch my thrall some food. Rargal should have provisions he keeps for the cattle in his quarters. Bring some to me and I'll reward you for the trouble."

"Right away, sir." With that, Ronthil scurried away, following orders. Vingalmo didn't wait for him, opting to return to his temporary quarters until Ronthil returned minutes later, carrying a plate with cooked beef, a slice of bread, and a cup of water. Muiri gobbled it up while Vingalmo paid Ronthil with a coinpurse, filled with approximately fifty septims, and a goblet of blood from one of his own caskets. Ronthil thanked him earnestly, walking off, sipping from the goblet of irony liquid.

It didn't take Muiri long to finish her meal, pushing the plate and empty cup to the side as she sat on her knees, looking up at Vingalmo. He nodded to the bed.

"Get some sleep." He instructed. She got to her feet slowly, regarding him with a bit of uncertainty.

"Are you sure, milord? Isn't there anything else you need?" A close mouthed smile slowly spread on his lips.

"No, pet. That'll be all for now." She bowed, scampering to the bed, flopping down on the plush surface. By the sound of her heartbeats and her breathing, it only took minutes for her to fall asleep. It would be some time yet before he needed to sleep, himself. Vingalmo stayed in the room for a while yet, if nothing else to make sure no one would come and take his prize away from him.

-=-=-=-=-=-

The next day, two pieces of correspondence came. One from their illustrious leader, saying that they would be out on business longer than they'd anticipated. The second came in the form of one of their own in Markarth, which included the details of a rival coven starting in the Reach. With the court's hands tied, Vingalmo elected to take care of the issue himself, feeling a spontaneous urge to spill blood by his own hand. 

However, thanks to having his own thrall with him at all times, he was well fed by the time he arrived at the coven, and thus far weaker than he should've been for taking on an entire rival clan. A small clan, but it was enough to make Vingalmo come back to the castle, wounds on his body that ranged from pierces, to grazes, to scratches, and burns from a mage thrall. Still, he managed to slaughter every single one of them. He strode through the castle halls the day after he left, his armor torn and singed, and stinking of coagulated blood and soot. He had definitely been cooped up in the castle walls longer than he thought. Oh well. The thrill of putting down those who sought to undermine those clearly in power was well worth the trouble.

He had a craving to feed once more. It would make him feel better, if nothing else. The trek through the castle was brief, the desire to taste the blood of his thrall quickening his steps. Closing the door behind him, Vingalmo let out a tired sigh, trudging to the throne in front of the fireplace. Muiri was nearby eating when Vingalmo walked through. Upon seeing him, she stopped, opting to approach him instead. She gasped upon seeing him, probably horrified by the amount of damage he showed on his person. He smirked. Precious little thing. A good thrall was always attentive and concerned for their master and she was no different.

"Milord! You're hurt." She knelt in front of him, her hands hovering in front of him as if asking permission to touch him. "Is there anything I can do?" His eyes roamed over her again, taking in her beauty. Such a lovely little thing. Feeling the urge to dominate and order once more, he took full advantage of her willingness. Leaning back in the throne, elbow propped on the armrest, he watched her. A predatory gaze fixed on his features as the idea of a different way to make himself feel better made its way to the forefront of his mind.

"Stand and undress."

Without hesitation, Muiri stood up, unlacing her clothes. Within a moment, the garment fell off of her form, pooling around her ankles. The light of the fire behind her only served to enhance the sight before him. Vingalmo hummed in appreciation of this beautiful woman wearing nothing but lacy white smallclothes. She offered him a smile, eyes wide and hopeful, directed at him.

"Is this helping you, milord?" She asked, hands folded behind her back.

"Almost there, pet. Remove those as well." He ordered, eyes boring into her as she complied, removing her smallclothes. The garments joined her dress on the floor. Vingalmo felt his cock begin to harden. He was surprised it had taken this long for it to happen, honestly. "That's more like it. I feel better already." He said with a wicked grin. The beaming smile on her face as she kicked her clothes off to the side was a precious thing indeed. He curled his finger, beckoning her to him. She obeyed, sauntering to him, a sway to her hips. 

When she was close enough, he smoothed his hands over her sides, watching as her eyes became darker, her lids heavy with oncoming desire. Perhaps it had been a while for her as well. His hands travelled upward still, his thumb tracing over the swollen curve of her breast. She bit her lip and he heard her heartbeat quicken, along with her breathing. It was intoxicating, the smell of her blood rushing through her veins; her cheeks dusted with a fetching shade of dark pink.

"I feel overdressed. Help me out of these rags, would you?" He leaned back again, continuing to watch her with predatory hunger. Muiri nodded, kneeling before him to remove his boots first. He helped her a bit, pulling his feet out once she had gotten the buckles loose. Next came the bracers, her nimble little fingers loosening the leather easily enough. The torn leather of the armor was the most difficult for her to remove, but she was able to rise to the challenge, easing it and the cloth undergarment over his shoulders before pulling them down past his torso. He lifted his hips, assisting her in removing all of his clothing completely, his gaze ever trained on her.

"Anything else, my lord?" She asked him, sitting up on her knees, and yet still much shorter than he. Vingalmo's fists clenched. The urge to pull her down to him and feed from her, gorge himself on her blood before throwing her onto the floor to fuck her right then and there had appeared and made itself very present. He fought it, reasoning that it would be better to pace himself. After all, he hadn't had the pleasure of a woman for a long while. It would need to be savored like fine wine or a nobleman's blood. His cock twitched and he grunted, shifting in the throne a bit. 

He grabbed the back of her neck, his thumb tracing over the pulse of blood through the artery there, and pulled her closer to him, pleased that she obliged. He angled his hips slightly and watched her eyes travel downward, settling on his engorged cock.

"Suck." He ordered. She lowered herself, settling between Vingalmo's legs, her hands smoothing over his thighs. He bit his lip, a surge of heat coursing through him. One of her delicate little hands rested on his hip whilst the other gripped the shaft of his member, giving a few experimental strokes. A small hiss escaped his lips, his breathing quickened. Without further preamble, Muiri took him into her mouth, giving a slow tug, drawing on him. Little tease. A soft moan escaped his lips as she continued her ministrations. The length of him that wasn't able to fit into her mouth was paid attention to by her hand, stroking up and down. Still, she was going too slow for his liking. He buried a hand into her hair, gripping hard and forcing her to take as much of him as she could, a gagging sound heard on her end as the tip of his cock reached the back of her throat. He nearly groaned with the feel of her gagging on him but forced himself to restrain from doing so at the moment. Her eyes looked up to him questioningly.

"Faster, pet." She hummed in acknowledgment, beginning to take him quicker, her mouth drawing on him faster than before. Her tongue smoothed over the underside of his shaft, her eyes still locked on his. He watched her, biting his lip. He was vaguely aware of his hips moving up to thrust into her mouth as she continued to work him closer to release. "That's much better. Yes, that's a good girl." He praised, releasing his grip in her hair for a moment in favor of stroking his fingers through the soft brown strands. She moaned around him, causing another moan to leave him. Her other hand gripped his hip tighter. Her fingernails dug into the skin on his hip, while the hand working his cock moved differently, with a twisting motion from her wrist here and there. He felt her teeth graze the sensitive skin and let his head fall back against the back of the chair, losing himself in the feeling of her mouth and deft, graceful hands working him.

He wouldn't last much longer and he knew it, especially the way she was doing what she was doing. It had, indeed, been far too long since he'd lain with a woman. Moans and soft groans came more frequently from him, his hips continuing to thrust up into her hot, tight little mouth. Almost there. Almost.

He gave her no warning, opting to take another handful of her hair, forcing her to deep throat him once again before spilling himself down her throat. His cock twitched and spasmed with release and his toes curled from the feeling of it as he kept working his hips against her, a choked moan leaving him. She gasped, the sound of gagging once again heard below him as she took every drop of cum he released. His breathing was heavy as he released his hold on her hair once more. Her mouth slid off of him slowly, a string of saliva connecting her lip and the tip of his cock. She licked her lips clean, eyes half lidded with lust.

"Anything else, milord?" Muiri asked, sinuously standing up, sitting on his lap. Vingalmo's breathing regulated, his hands smoothing over her sides once more, one hand travelling down the silken, firm expanse of skin to grab onto her pert ass. The other reached up to cup the swell of one of her breasts. He felt her move her hips over his lap and smelled her arousal. The thrum of blood rushing through her veins caused him to lick his lips. The pad of his thumb traced over her taut nipple. He felt her tighten her thighs around his for a moment at the attention and smirked, a low chuckle resounding from him.

"I suppose you deserve a reward, don't you?" He said more to himself than her, regarding her with interest as he sat forward in the throne. He smiled slightly, seeing her nod enthusiastically, a small whine issuing from her.He had the desire to see her squirm over him in pleasure. To make her gasp and moan and beg for him to fuck her. Yes, that would please him quite a bit.

His hand trailed from her ass to smooth over her hip, then her flat abdomen before pushing between her legs. Long, talented fingers slid past the excess moisture gathered between the folds there. They slid slowly over her clit, curving and finding the entrance to her slick, heated opening. He didn't hesitate, his fingers slipping inside her as Muiri let out a gasp and a moan in delight. His other hand moved to the column of her neck, applying pressure to her throat. A light choking sound issued from Muiri, her nails digging into his shoulders whilst his mouth attached to her nipple, tongue swirling around the taut, dark pink flesh, pulling it between his teeth. The taste of her blood was faint but it filled his senses. A groan issued from him as he bit down just hard enough to pierce her skin. A small amount of fresh blood bloomed from the wound, and he lapped at it greedily. He could feel the abrasions and wounds on his skin diminish with every drop he drank.

Vingalmo's fingers curled inside her, finding an elusive spot that so many many lovers had easily missed in women. The tips of his fingers found it quickly enough, stroking, and caressing that spot over and over again, gasp and moan after gasp and moan tearing from Muiri's lips. The pad of his thumb rubbed against her clit, pushing her stimulation further and further still until he could feel her inner muscles begin to tighten around his digits. She wouldn't be long now. His hand moved from her throat in favor of moving down her body to grip at her firm ass once more, his fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to bruise.

She moaned loudly, her hips raising and falling against the penetration, riding his fingers, gasping, desperate to find her release. Vingalmo released her nipple, breathing heavily against her skin. He felt his cock begin to come back to life, in a matter of speaking. He moved his mouth to nip and bite at her earlobe and the tender flesh of her neck as he eased another finger inside her with the first two, thrusting up into her in rhythm with the movement of her hips. 

"That's it, pet. Take it. Ride my fingers like you're going to ride my cock." She cried out, sobbing with pleasure. Her movements became erratic until she spasmed, her walls tightening around his digits. She held him inside her as a wail of intense rapture came from her, and filled the air around them. She fell onto him, her forehead pressed against his collarbone, her hands still firmly planted on his shoulders as she rode out her orgasm on his fingers. By now, his cock was fully erect again. It twitched, the need for taking her taking over him.

"Milord." Muiri's voice came out softly, spent with satisfaction. She squirmed on his lap as he withdrew his fingers, licking them clean as he waited for her to speak further. "My legs. They're starting to hurt. If it's alright with you, may we move to the bed perhaps? Or even just by the fireplace? I don't think I can stay with my legs wedged between the armrests much longer." Vingalmo sighed, picking her up, moving the two of them to the floor right in front of the hearth, the warmth welcome to the two of them as they settled on the fur pelt that lay out in front of the seats.

"Better?" He asked. She nodded, a glad smile on her face. "Good." He replied, rolling on his back, drawing her over him. "Now you can ride my cock."

Straddling Vingalmo's toned hips, Muiri's knees sunk into the plushness of the pelt. She leaned forward, one of her hands on his chest for support as the other reached down to grab him, guiding him to her opening. She lowered her hips down onto his rigid cock, a sharp gasp inhaled through her nose. His hands gripped her hips as she moved slowly, getting used to his size. She whimpered above him, drawing her lip between her teeth. 

"You're...big. Bigger than I've ever had. It hurts a little." She rasped, her hips grinding against his, trying to adjust to his length. He believed it. Petite little thing as she was, she probably wasn't used to anyone other than other Bretons being inside her. He hummed, allowing her to adjust herself a moment longer before he began thrusting up into her. She gasped, then sobbed in equal parts pain and pleasure.

"You'll get used to it, pet. Go on." He coaxed, his pace quickening a bit. She bit her lip, attempting to meet the thrusting of the man beneath her. His hands on her hips gripped harder, guiding her, showing her how he liked to be ridden. She obeyed, following his guidance as faithfully as she could. It wasn't long before Vingalmo growled, losing his patience. She was still getting used to him, moving too timidly, and it was taking too long. His thrusts became harder, faster, driving into her with feral force, the slapping of skin against skin sounding around the room. Muiri sobbed again, trying to meet his movements. As such, they were out of synch, moving wildly against each other. He noted tears gathering at the corners of her eyes but she didn't demand he stopped. In fact, if the tightening around his cock was anything to go by, she was actually enjoying this.

His guess was confirmed as loud moans and whimpers began pouring from her. She leaned forward, her hands on his chest for balance, and her hips driving against his with added wildness, attempting to match his ferocity. Her body was covered with a sheen of sweat before long, and her eyelids drifted shut. He raised a hand, smacking it against her rear, hard enough to elicit a loud cry from her. He grabbed a handful of the tender flesh there, biting his lip before he smacked it again, same spot as before, earning the same reaction. There would likely be some swelling there later. He wedged a hand between them, pressing a fingertip to her clit, and rubbed at the engorged pip of flesh. The hand that was resting on her ass reached up to take a fistful of her hair and pulled, drawing her head back. A long groan came from her, her cheeks flushed.

Muiri was close. Wouldn't be too long now. He sat up, licking up the column of her neck before sinking his teeth into her soft skin. She clung to him, her nails scraping trails across his back. He inhaled sharply through his nose, the taste of her blood enhancing everything. The smells of burning wood, smoke, her arousal, and sweat mingled together. The sounds she made, the sound of their bodies moving together rang in his ears. The feeling of her nails and of her tightening around him felt primal on a different level. He couldn't remember the last time fucking a woman felt this good.

Vingalmo growled, releasing his hold on her neck, pulling her off of him in favor of turning her over on all fours. He moved behind her, and without preamble, he re-entered and began pounding into her. His hands had a firm hold on her slender, supple waist, moving her in a way that allowed him to thrust into her with added force. The tightening around got worse. She was about to clamp down something fierce and come. So close. So close.

He withdrew from her, his cock covered in her arousal. He was amused by the disappointed sound that issued from her as she looked over her shoulder at him.

"Oh, you want to come, don't you, my pet?" He cooed, smoothing his hand over the small of her back, his fingertips tracing over the dimples there as she nodded, and whimpered. "Then beg me for it and maybe I'll let you." He instructed, leaning forward to bite down into the back of her shoulder, grinding his aching cock onto her ass, drinking in her sweet, sweet blood.

"Please, my Lord. Let me come." He hummed, removing his teeth from her flesh, licking at the wound on her shoulder. He leaned back onto his knees, smacking her ass again. Hard. If there was any doubt of there being a welt there later, there was certainly none now. She cried out at the impact, biting her lip.

"You can do better than that, sweetling." He grabbed his cock, teasing her folds with it, moving his hips just slightly. Enough for her to feel the head prod at her opening. "Try again."

"I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me and make me come so hard I won't be able to stand." She tried again. He hummed again, the sound a bit more appreciative. He reached around, his finger teasing her clit. She could still feel the head of his cock right at her entrance. She whined from the lack of him being inside her.

"Better. Ah but, that was more of an order than begging." He rolled her clit between his thumb and index finger. "Once more, if you will." He ordered. She groaned, eyes screwed shut.

"Please let me come, my Lord. Please, put your cock back inside me and show me who the master vampire is." With that, he growled, re-entering her, leaning forward to catch the lobe of her ear between his teeth.

"That's more like it." He drawled, resuming his pace from earlier, slamming into her. She cried out, any words other than 'yes' that she may have said were incomprehensible. Her arms gave out, her face falling to the pelt, expression screwed in ecstasy as he hit an entirely different angle this way, her moans and cries momentarily caught in her throat. He continued to stimulate her clit, rubbing firm circles on it, his other hand gripping her waist, once again using it to bring her to him with added force. His breathing came out unevenly through his nose as he made groans and grunts of pleasure.

It was too much for her. The pounding, the rubbing on her clit, the smells, the sounds, all of it was just too much. It didn't take long at all for her to come, her walls tightening on him with such zeal that it significantly quickened his oncoming release. He lunged forward, his teeth sinking back into the wound made on her shoulder, drawing in more blood. That was when he came undone. His hips jerked into hers unevenly, a shaky moan of his own leaving him. Her walls milked him of every drop of cum as he rode out his orgasm, his pace gradually slowing until he stopped altogether.

She collapsed, his softening cock sliding out of her easily, covered in cum. He joined her on the pelt, his breathing still irregular, as was hers. Minutes ticked by, their breaths returning to normal when she slowly turned over to face him. The utterly sated, satisfied, exhausted smile brought him a sense of pride, even if she were just a mortal human.

"You're healed." She spoke softly. Ah yes. He hadn't even noticed that his battle wounds from the coven had healed during their vigorous fucking. He must've taken more blood than he thought he had.

"That I have, sweetling. Thank you kindly for helping me." Vingalmo praised, smoothing a hand through her hair. She hummed, pleased with the attention. Muiri yawned and he saw her look behind him, to the bed.

"I'm so sleepy. You utterly wore me out but I honestly don't know if I have it in me to get up and walk to the bed. Is it alright if I lay here, milord?" She asked, her eyelids shutting entirely. If he hadn't just been completely and utterly satisfied, he would've let her stay there. He would've gotten up and went about his business without giving a second thought. But he was feeling generous and he dare say content. He picked her up, an arm hooked under her legs and the back of her neck, and carried her to the bed, laying her down over the covers gently. She smiled, snuggling into the mattress.

The sound of her heartbeat told him a mere few minutes later that she had fallen asleep. He walked past the bed, opting to venture into the room where the court leader kept their wardrobes and the coffin they never used. It only took a moment to sift through the wardrobe to find another set of the clan armor, black in color. Not his favorite, but it would do for now. He ambled back into the main chamber and picked up the torn remains of his former set of armor, throwing it into the hearth, watching the flames eat at the remains greedily. He ran his hand through his hair, feeling fairly tired himself. He reasoned that he should be getting some sleep as well. With that in mind, he turned on his heel, and strode to the bed, laying down in the space next to Muiri. He hummed, noting how much softer the bed was than the coffins. Perhaps the castle should get some kind of cushioning put into the coffins. It would certainly be much more comfortable, that was certain.

That was Vingalmo's last thought before sleep took him.

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty.
> 
> Hopefully, whomever happens upon this will like it. I toiled hard over it, proofreading it as best I could. I have no beta but I tried to make it as good as I could.
> 
> Please leave feedback if you can or if you have any to give. It'd be much appreciated. :)


End file.
